The Quidditch Final, as told by Katie Bell
by Lady Christina
Summary: The title is pretty self-explanatory, this story is about Katie Bell's thoughts and feelings regarding the Quidditch Final that took place during Harry's third year.


**The Quidditch Final, as told by Katie Bell**

_By Christina_

((Pre-fic author's note:Have you ever wondered what was going through Gryffindor chaser Katie Bell's mind before the Championship match against Slytherin in Harry's third year?Probably not, but I did, so I wrote this story.Comments would be appreciated, but are certainly not required.Thanks.))

I woke early the morning of the quidditch final.That was understandable enough; I was about to play the biggest game of my life.Angelina and Alicia were fifth years too, so we roomed together.Strangely enough, the other two girls were not in their beds, but we were too preoccupied to worry about them.We walked into the common room together, not saying much; we were all nervous. 

As we opened the door and started down the stairs applause broke out below us.The whole Gryffindor house was standing below us, ready to wish us good luck in the match against Slytherin.Oliver, Fred, George and Harry were there too, clapping.I smiled weakly at them, and started towards the portrait hole.Fred caught up with me on the way down to breakfast.

"Worried, are you?"

I looked at Fred dubiously."Yes, I am worried.I am about to play the biggest quidditch match of my life, as you are.I don't understand how you can remain so calm."

"Ah, Katie, all it takes is presence of mind.Don't focus on the match, or, more specifically, what Wood'll do if we lose, think of something more pleasant.Something like, say, what would happen if Snape turned into a horned toad."

I laughed, despite myself.

"You see Katie?You're relaxing already."Before I could reply, we stepped into the Great Hall and, like before, we were greeted with applause from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.Fred had helped me to calm down, despite the mounting pressure I was feeling, and even the hisses from the Slytherin table could not bring me down.

I wasn't hungry at all, but because of Oliver, I did eat something.

"Katie, you need to eat something; you need your strength for this match.Have some toast, will you?" he said, holding out a piece of toast topped with strawberry jam.

"Oliver, I'm really not hungry, don't worry about me," I protested.

"No Katie, you need it, I'm serious," he said, pushing it closer to my empty plate.Reluctantly, I took it.

"What about you Oliver?Don't you need to eat something too?"He appeared not to hear me, instead saying

"Team, field, now"

The seven of us again rose, and headed for the large doors that lead us out to the quidditch pitch.As I walked past the Hufflepuff table Cedric Diggory stopped me.

"Wait, Katie?Good luck today, I hope you win," he said, and smiled at me.

"Thanks," I said, and managed a meager smile back.I had to jog to catch up with the team, because they were almost to the doors.As soon as we stepped outside, Oliver started to analyze the weather.

"Okay—no wind to speak of—the sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it—ground's fairly hard, good that'll give us a fast kickoff--"

We started to wander around, each of us thinking privately, trying to psych ourselves up for the match, when the school started to pour out of the same doors that we had just used.

"Locker rooms," said Oliver, who looked as though he was going to be force fed poison.

The seven of us shuffled in the locker rooms, silently contemplating the upcoming match.We all knew how much Oliver wanted this victory, after all, it was his seventh year, and he hadn't been on a winning team.Ever.

However, we knew we had a shot at the Cup, and a very good one, despite being two hundred points down in the race.Practice the night before was—there was no other way to describe it—amazing.It could have been because we had Harry, and the Firebolt, or maybe all seven of us were releasing the stress that had settled upon out shoulders so heavily.Whatever it was, it was awe-inspiring.I remember thinking that if we could fly like that today we would have the cup locked up.

Slowly, we walked out of the locker rooms.Alicia was reluctant to leave; she seemed to feel that the lockers were here safe haven, a place where she could go, and everything would be all right.

"May I present the Slytherin team!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was commentating as usual."Malfoy, Montague, Warrington, Flint, Bole, Derrick, and Xerxes!

There were cheers from the Slytherins, but they were overcome for the most part by the boos from the Ravenclaws, Hiufflepuffs, and, of course, the Gryffidors.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" he yelled."Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood.Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen for a few years—"

I couldn't here the rest of what Lee was saying, because a sound of dislike echoed from the Slytherin end of the stadium drowned him out.

"And here comes the Slytherin team captin, led by Captain Flint.He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather then skill—"

Again, the Slytherin's raised noise, and Lee's next comments were lost to me.

"Captain's, shake hands!" said Madame Hooch.Oliver walked forward, and grabbed Marcus Flint's hand.They both wore pained expressions, and it was difficult to see who was the worse off; they both also seemed hell bent on showing no pain, no matter how tightly the other squeezed their hand.

I took my place opposite a Slythein chaser, Edgar Montauge.He was a tall sixth year, whom I didn't particularly like.The fact that we were something of enemies would alone make this quidditch victory all the more satisfying.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch."Three . . . .two . . . .one!"

I sped upwards, trying to keep one ear open to Lee's comments, the other to my teammates.Immediately, Alicia grabbed the quaffle and started heading towards the Slytherin end of the field.After flying two-thirds of the way down, Warrington grabbed it from her, and started back the other way.

Fortuanatly, George hit a bludger towards him, and he dropped it, giving Angelina time to pick it up, who scored.I did a few loops to release the tension, but quickly got back into the game; I knew that this would be a close one.

Marcus Flint retaliated by smashing into her, obviously trying to knock her out of the air.Fred threw his bludger club at Flint, and not only gave him a bloody nose but also gave Gryffindor a penalty.

Alicia took the shot for us, and made it, while Flint missed his penalty, making it twenty-zero Gryffindor.

Watching Oliver save Marcus' shot only provided me with more enthusiasm and drive to win.I was flying across the stadium to help block Warrington, when the quaffle suddenly came belting towards me.I picked it up, and started to dash towards the Slytherin goal posts.

WHAM!

The next thing I knew I was somersaulting in the air, with Montague, holding onto my head.In all the confusion, I dropped the quaffle.It didn't matter though, because, of course, I was allowed a penalty shot, which I neatly put into the Slytherin hoop.Served them right, the dirty cheaters.It was now thirty-zero, Gryffindor.Harry couldn't catch the snitch just yet though, because we would have won the game but lost the cup.And that's not what we were there to do.

Since Slytherin had the quaffle,their beaters decided to go after Harry, our seeker.By some sixth sense of his he could see the two of them coming at him from both sides and flew straight up—causing them to fly right into each other.

Seizing the moment of the Slytherin's confusion, what, with their beaters smashing into each other, Angelina took the quaffle, with me flying right underneath her just in case.Marcus Flint came right next to Angelina, and managed to steal the quaffle from her, the idiot.Of course, he managed to score.

That was hard for me, because I was right there, and I knew that I could have prevented it, but I didn't.He just moved so fast, and I didn't have all my wits about me.I **could** have done something, I just know I could have.

So it was thirty-ten, still Gryffindor's lead.The Slythein team started to play so unfairly that Madame Hooch awarded penalties to us.However, the Weasley's seemed so upset about the tactics of the Slytherin's they were retaliating in the exact same manner.

After yet another double penalty was awarded, I flew over to George, who was hovering near the center of field.

"George!Calm down!I know that they're not playing fair, but you can't let them get to you, that's exactly what they're trying to do.Besides, Oliver can't keep making these saves, just look at him!"It was true, he looked tired, but only his face showed it; his flying was still the same textbook style as it had been in the beginning of the match.

"You're right Katie, I'll try, but it's going to be hard.I'll try though," George replied before he zoomed off after a bludger.

Seventy-ten, still Gryffindor lead.I had scored once more, with the help of Fred and George.Under normal circumstances they would be there to protect me from a bludger, but this match was different.They were protecting me from the Slythein team as a whole.

If Harry could only find the snitch, and soon everything would be okay, I remember thinking.We were up by more then fifty points, and, with the snitch's added 150, we would secure the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor for the first time since Chralie Weasley played for the team.

Harry suddenly flew by me, a look of triumph on his face.That only ment one thing—he had seen the snitch.I looked around the field quickly, to see if Malfoy was close enough to steal it away, and saw him, of all places, hanging on to the back of Harry's broomstick.The cheater!He had successfully kept Harry from the snitch, which was, or course, the whole point.

Madame Hooch seemed just as upset as I was, and awarded us another penalty.

Alicia offered it to me to take, but I was so mad I knew that I would miss.Angelina wouldn't try either, so Alicia was stuck.She was so angry about Malfoy—and the Slytherin team in general—that she missed by several feet.

Montague scooped up the quaffle and took it across the field, despite Fred's efforts to knock him off his broom with a bludger.He almost threw his beater's stick at the chaser, when I caught his eye.Fred nodded, resignedly, to show me that he knew that wasn't the way to play.

I took control of the quaffle, but passed it off to Angelina, because I was about to run into Flint.Suddenly, Flint tore off, along with every other Slytherin player, except for Malfoy, the seeker.They were all heading straight for Angelina.

I heard Alicia scream, but I couldn't do anything.A whir of scarlet flashed by me, and Harry rampaged in front of Angelina, through the Slytherins.They immediately scattered, not wanting to be hit by Harry and his magnificent broomstick.

Angelina scored, and Harry turned himself around before he ran headlong into the stands.The score was eighty-twenty, and the excitement was mounting.Suddenly, Harry bolted off again.I turned around, expecting to see him raise up above the field to continue to search for the snitch; instead I saw Malfoy in the middle of a dive, a sickening smile on his face.The snitch was right below him.Harry was a good twenty feet behind him, but he was gaining on his Firebolt.

All play was stopped, even Flint, who continued when no one else would, froze and watched his seeker.

What happened next was amazing—Harry pulled even with Malfoy, and batted his hand away from the snitch.Harry extended his arm, and by the power and speed of his Firebolt, and grabbed the little golden ball.We'd won!

I couldn't believe what just had happened, we had won a quidditch final!The Gryffindor team was the house quidditch champion!

I zoomed towards Alicia and Fred, and who were already hugging.The three of us somehow managed to fly over to the rest of the team.I don't remember much of what happened after that—there was a lot of screaming, and jumping once we hit the ground.Four words kept darting around my head: 'we've won the cup!'

Yelling ourselves hoarse, we clutched each other tightly.People were poring at us from all angles, and most were sobbing.The seven of us were hoisted onto the backs of the crowd, still holding our broomsticks.Harry had not yet let go of the Golden Snitch, and rightly so.

One of the best parts of the whole morning was seeing Professor McGonagall, straight-laced, no nonsense Professor McGonagall abandoning all pretenses and sobbing heavily onto a large Gryffindor flag.

Somehow we got to the center of the stands, where Professor Dumbledore was standing to present us with the House Quidditch Cup.Oliver, sobbing because he finally had gotten what he wanted most, handed the large gold cup to Harry, who raised it high into the air.

I didn't say anything, only smiled and sobbed, because I was trying to imprint that moment in my mind forever.

Disclaimer:Harry Potter, quidditch, all names, likenesses, and anything else that you might recognize as "Harry Potter related" belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling, her publishers, Bloomsbury Publishers and Scholastic Books, Arthur A. Levine books, and, apparently, Warner Brothers.No infringment 

was intended; this is just a fun story I wrote, nothing more, nothing less.


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